


an aftermath of loss

by gabriphales



Series: gomens drabble hell [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: cathartic four am drabble; crowley and gabriel come to a sort of epiphany. it's painful.
Series: gomens drabble hell [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664713
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	an aftermath of loss

**Author's Note:**

> note that no actual graphic descriptions of the abuse are mentioned in the fic. still, be wary of the tags, the sexual abuse is heavily implied. also the abuser is?? supposed to be sandalphon but i literally never actually said his name so!! take what liberties u wish

crowley despises himself.

he despises himself for not having realized sooner. for having let _gabriel_ be the one to clue him in. a hushed whisper that sent damp, cold chills raging in his stomach, sickeningly pale hands blurring in the rain, the _rain_ , and his own cloudy vision. a smeared perception of reality, sight marred by tears. 

his throat burns with the wreckage left behind from his bitter, angry sobs. he's a car crash in motion, all hissing pipes and bloody steering wheels, tires spinning in the air. and he screams throughout it. he screams, he screams, he _screams_. he can't stop screaming.

gabriel has to carry him back to his flat. what had started as a supportive hand on his back, a hope at aiding his stumbling walk, eventually devolved into being cradled like an infant. he fits his role perfectly, considering he remains sniffling the whole way home.

he should have noticed. he should have thought--should have thought about _something_ other than himself for once. he's selfish, prioritizing his affections over his angel's actual needs. clearly, there had to be some sort of underlying signs. a litany of symptoms to lead him towards the illness at heart. crowley hadn't known, he hadn't known--but he could have, he _should_ have.

"what made you ask? what made you start to worry?" crowley can't bare to keep the words from barging out his mouth a second longer. they've invited themselves into the discourse at hand, desperate to be spoken, desperate to be acknowledged. and, cruelly enough, he isn't even sure if he's looking for an answer. if he really, _truly_ wants one.

and gabriel pours him a hot drink--tea, because coffee would surely entice a full round of bile from his stomach in a state like this--before he answers. cold, calculated, but not in an unkind way. it's clear he's picking and choosing with truths to disclose, what facts to adlib. all in the hopes of soothing crowley's temper. _nothing_ could possibly soothe crowley's temper.

"the dolls. and the other toys, for that matter. whenever i left them alone for too long-- _god_ , apparently too long, by the time he'd leave they'd all be..."

and he pauses. takes a sip of the tea himself. gabriel never eats, gabriel never drinks. crowley starts to wonder if it might be spiked.

"they'd all be turned around. facing the other direction." 

crowley's stomach drops. that sinking feeling in his core returning, leaving him weak in his seat. terrified the sofa might melt out from underneath him, and he'd be left crashing through the floorboards. down, down, down. falling just like the first time, just like he deserves. 

only a demon would let something like this go on for so long.

aziraphale was wrong. he's anything but kind.

"it's... more common than you might think, in victims that are--you know, on the younger side. something about preserving the innocence, not wanting them to see and get scared." gabriel continues trying to explain. he sounds like there's a stone jammed in his throat, clogging up every word, down to the last vowel and consonant. 

"i don't understand. how didn't i--how didn't i realize--why would an _angel_ do something so... so _vile_?"

gabriel bites his tongue. crowley can't see it, but he can hear it. the sharp, wet slice. the way his adam apple bobs to swallow the bloody aftermath. he must have bitten it clean in two--or, at the very least, quite nearly decapitated in. a subtle chime sounds, and he's able to speak again.

"you can't blame yourself. if anything, i'm the one most responsible for what has occurred. i remained oblivious to the obvious, and avoided the unavoidable, for fear of what i might find. i've had suspicions for quite a couple months now, but i never could have imagined...."

he trails off, cups his face in his hands for a brief, split second of solitude. composure, composure, composure is _necessary_ at a time like this, he reminds himself. even if it hurts, even if it's bitter and cold, leaving him shivering despite his searing rage just barely kept under wraps, he has to do this. he has to be strong now, aziraphale needs him. dare he say it, _crowley_ needs him.

"i never thought he'd go that far. not with aziraphale."

fingers press against his own, slipping inside the empty spaces between each digit. a thumb brushes over his knuckles, stroking calmly, gently. and it's too much, too much to handle. because of all the people who ought to be tended for, of all those affected, in need of comfort, the very _last_ of them to receive that should be him.

"it wasn't your fault either, then. cool it, you can deal with the bastard, i'll go find aziraphale." crowley tells him, and there's a definite promise in his tone. a threat just waiting to be hatched, acted upon. gabriel nods, meager and dull, but good enough for now.

"thank you. i--i think i understand, now. i didn't at first. y'know, why he likes you so much. _trusts_ you." gabriel says, his throat sore, flesh tender from all the ache he'd been swallowing down, holding back.

"you really are pretty nice for a demon."

and for the first time that evening, crowley's lips threaten the edge of a smile.

"you know what? he'd say that too."

**Author's Note:**

> this was more of a vent fic than anything else ngl (tfw u wish ud had two himbo suitors to save u lmao) so sorry for the heavy topic


End file.
